


Friendsgiving

by breathedeep222



Category: The Black Tapes Podcast
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Miscommunication, Thanksgiving, strand being emotionally constipated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 06:13:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5406068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathedeep222/pseuds/breathedeep222
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What are you bringing to the potluck? I need to know what everyone is bringing by this weekend so I can plan what I'm cooking."</p><p>"Unfortunately," he lied, "I will not be attending."</p><p>"WHAT?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendsgiving

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure Strand has to be older buuuttt whatever. This is all fiction anyway. (Unfortunately)
> 
> I became obsessed with this podcast earlier this week and I ship these two so hard already and just needed to write SOMETHING.

"What are you bringing to the potluck? I need to know what everyone is bringing by this weekend so I can plan what I'm cooking."

Dr. Strand looked up from his paperwork. He and Alex had been sitting in silence in his office at the university, working on separate tasks. Alex had come over to interview him earlier that day, and when they were done mentioned she had a lot of work to catch up on but she kept getting distracted at home. He offered up his office, saying how he had plenty of work to do himself, and it was too boring to provide any distractions. His deadpan joke pulled a small, tinkling laugh out of her and she made herself comfortable in the corner of the room.

His office might have been boring enough to keep Alex from distraction, but he couldn't say the same for himself. Strand was hyper aware of her presence in the room. Every time she shifted in her seat, the soft click of her typing, the periodic clearing of her throat as she worked all pulled his attention away from his work. He was no longer used to having someone working in his space like that. It felt oddly intimate, knowing that she talked to herself every now and then as she worked, or that she never seemed to sit still. They hadn't said a word to each other for the past hour, so Strand was a little thrown off by her question.

"What?" He asked. 

"For the Friendsgiving dinner in two weeks?" Alex was standing now and packing her stuff away. Even though he had been hopelessly distracted, he couldn't help but feel sad she was leaving already. 

"Oh, right, that." He wasn't totally playing dumb. He really didn't realize what she was talking about when she first asked him. But he hadn't completely forgotten about it. He had just been putting off the inevitable. 

"Unfortunately," he lied, "I will not be attending."

"WHAT?" 

Dr. Strand had been expecting some protest, that is why he put off telling her in the first place. The longer he could wait, the less time Alex would have to try and convince him to attend. However, he was not expecting the hurt expression she was giving him now.

Thankfully, it didn't last long because it quickly melted to one of suspicion. 

"Why not?" She gave him a glare and picked up her bag. She walked over to his desk.

On her podcast, Alex frequently mentioned that she considered him a mystery. It was ironic because Strand was pretty sure Alex could see through him better than anyone else.

"I have to work," he replied easily. The expression of disapproval that followed he was certainly expecting.

"You'd rather work instead of having a nice dinner with me and my friends? On _Thanksgiving_?"

"Actually, your dinner is on Friday, so it won't be Thanksgiving." This won him an eye roll and a slight smile.

"How clever. But do you really think you're going to distract me that easily? Are you seriously going to work instead of coming to dinner? You've known about it for weeks." Alex cut off and her expression changed to one of realization. "You never intended to come, did you?" She pointed a finger at him accusingly.

Dr. Strand leaned back in his seat, trying to keep his composure. Alex would try to convince him to come, and he had to remember why it was a bad idea. 

"Technically, I never accepted your invitation. I only confirmed I received it."

"Yes, and that is usually the time when people mention they don't plan on attending." The hurt was back in her eyes and Dr. Strand hardened his resolve. "You could have just said you don't want to go but..." Alex trailed off and shifted on her feet.

"But what?" Strand prompted, unable to help himself. 

"I know you don't have any other plans," she continued softly.

She was trying to be gentle, but it stung nonetheless. There was no gentle way to address why he had no plans for Thanksgiving.

"I told you, I'll be working." This probably would have gone better if he had come up with an excuse, and he had considered it. But there was always something about Alex that made you want to tell the truth.

"Wow, exciting. That sounds like a great way to spend Thanksgiving. You really know how to party."

"Well," Strand began. He could hear his voice was already harsher than he intended, but he couldn't stop himself. "I'm sure it will be more enjoyable than hanging out with a bunch of naive, airheaded 20 somethings."

He had meant it jokingly. Alex was used to his harsh humor by now. But the way her face crumbled told him he had struck a nerve.

"Alex-"

Before he could say anything else, Alex picked up her back and coat and ran out the door.  
________________________

"Alex! Alex wait!"

Alex heard the distress in Strand's voice as he called her name but she couldn't stop. The momentum of her anger had transferred to her legs, carrying her down the hallway at a swift pace.

Unfortunately, the elevator did require her stopping. She was mad, but she wasn't so mad she'd take the stairs down 10 flights.

The elevator doors opened right when she reached them but Dr. Strand followed her in. 

"Alex please, I'm sorry."

"Leave me alone." She pressed the lobby button repeatedly, willing the elevator to move as fast as possible and let her out. She was hurt and embarrassed. How could he say those things about her friends? About her? Sure she was younger than him, 27 to his 36, and he was condescending to everyone but. But she thought they had a connection. She thought they were _friends_. 

"Alex-"

"Why do you even want to talk to me anyway?" She shouted. The elevator was on the 5th floor, and she felt she couldn't stand another second in there. "Since I'm such an air headed 20 something!"

"Oh," Strand said in a soft, surprised voice. She couldn't help herself and turned to look at him. His dark brown eyes softened when they met. "I wasn't talking about you," he said apologetically.

"Oh please." The elevator reached the lobby and the second the doors opened Alex was speeding off. She was so ticked off she didn't even notice the security guard looking at them curiously. "I'm not THAT naive."

"I didn't mean you," he repeated breathlessly from behind her. Even though she was shorter than him, his longer legs could not keep up with her fury.

"Bullshit!" She spun around and he collided with the finger she was pointing at him. "It's not like you've ever met my friends! You only called them those things because that's what you think about _me_."

"I didn't mean any of it," Strand said quickly. "I just wanted you to stop asking about the dinner so I lashed out. It was terrible of me."

Alex wanted to stay angry, but he sounded so sincere, and she was also curious. She was a journalist, her curiosity always won.

"The dinner you'd rather do work during than attend?" She punctuated her statement with a glare to make sure he knew he wasn't getting off that easily.

"I..." Strand blew out a breath and looked around. He ran his hands through his airs and shifted on his feet nervously. The few people in the lobby were openly staring at them now. "Could we do this somewhere else?" He asked, voice low.

Alex didn't bother responding. She turned back around and strode out the door into the school parking lot. It wasn't private, but people would stop staring at them and they could talk without making a scene. Maybe. 

They reached her car and Alex turned back around and looked up at Dr. Strand expectantly. 

He hesitated, uncertain if she wanted him to talk, but when she continued not to say anything he started.

"You were right. I never planned to attend the dinner. I didn't tell you because I knew you would try to convince me to go, so I figured the less time you had the less likely it would be for you to succeed." He paused and looked conflicted.

"And why was the idea of going to dinner so miserable?" Her patience had run out. He was going to explain, and then she was going to leave.

"I...it isn't you. It's...everyone else." He took another deep breath. "Look, Alex," his voice changed, it went from nervous to resigned. "It's obvious I don't have many friends. That's not an accident. I'm not...easy to get along with. As you well know. You don't need me at your dinner party with all your friends boring everyone to death."

Dr. Strand stopped speaking and looked away from her. Alex realized it was her turn to talk, to forgive him for what he said or not. She also realized, by Strand's closed off and extremely tense body language that was hard for him to say. 

She could understand why. She knew enough by now to know that Strand's aloof attitude was a bit of an act. He did think he was smarter than many of the people he interacted with on a daily basis, but, he didn't really believe he was above them. Too good for them.

"You thought my friends wouldn't like you?" Her voice went up on the end, but only slightly. It was only kind of a question.

"I know they wouldn't like me," he corrected. "After the interest about the job and the podcast wear off, there's just me. And I happen to be very boring."

"I don't think you're boring." Alex blurted out. Strand raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I think you have a stick up your ass," she reassured him, and also got a dry chuckle for her trouble, "but I don't think you're boring."

"Good to know, I suppose." Strand shifted again and rubbed his arm lightly. Alex realized he had chased her out of the office with no coat. He was standing in the Seattle cold in only his blue button down. "But your friends might disagree. I don't make a good first impression."

"That's not tru-"

"Alex please." Strand was back to sounding exasperated. "I know you feel obligated, but you really don't need to worry about me. I won't be working, I'll just be enjoying time at home with a book."

"You think I'm obligated?" Alex asked in surprise, ignoring his sorry attempt to reassure her he wouldn't feel lonely on Thanksgiving. 

Strand seemed surprise by her surprise. His eyes were wide. "Well yes. You've been talking about it since October and it would be rude for you to then not extend an invitation."

Alex couldn't believe this. No wonder Dr. Strand didn't want to go. He thought she invited him because it was _polite_.

"I invited you because you're my _friend_." She insisted, interrupting whatever he had been saying.

Dr. Strand was standing there, in the parking lot of his university, breath fogging in the cold, and gaping at her. Dr. Strand, gaping. Who would have thought?

"You...we...what?" He finally settled on.

"You're my friend, Dr. Strand. Or at least, I thought you were. Clearly I was mistaken."

"No!" he sad quickly, but then paused. He seemed to have no clue how to proceed. "I mean. I just...wasn't sure. I didn't know that you would consider yourself my friend." He rubbed his arm again and Alex felt guilty for dragging him out into the cold. Rushing out of his office was probably a bit dramatic, especially for her. But Dr. Strand had a way of getting under her skin. And it seemed that, at least in this instance, she had gotten under his skin too. She had never seen Dr. Strand so unsure of what he was going to say. So uncomposed.

"Well I won't be" she said with a smile, "if you don't come to Friendsgiving. All my friends need to come."

Strand laughed, relief lighting up his face. "I doubt _all_ of your friends make it to Friendsgiving."

"The important ones do." Alex was silent to let the words process. Once it seemed Strand knew she meant it, she continued. "Now get inside before you freeze." She gave him a playful shove. 

"I'm fine!" He defended quickly, dropping his hand that was halfway to his arm again.

"Sure," Alex said. He had been honest enough for one day. "Think about what you're going to cook," she said sternly as she opened her car door.

"I'm looking forward to it." Strand smiled at her.

Alex got in her car with a bright smile on her face. She felt warm all over, and proud. Proud that she could get Richard Strand to look at her with such affection.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you did!


End file.
